


Even Superheroes Deserve Some Downtime

by Signe_chan, Trojie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/M, Group Sex, Healing Sex, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Tony Stark fills one floor of his tower with a massive bedroom and the Avengers are involved in some free-form polygamy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Superheroes Deserve Some Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to our lovely artist sullacat! You can find the art/fanmix she made for this fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2591105). It is wonderful and perfect and you should all go see it!

“Holy shit, today’s sucked!” Tony complained, tugging impatiently at his arm as the robot removed the last of his armor. The others, predictably, ignored him. Clint made a kind of grunting sound that might have been in response to him, but really could have been anything. 

He couldn’t blame everyone for being exhausted. It had been kind of a busy week with Clint and Natasha being away for half of it in Niger. Steve never rested properly when they weren’t all safe and where he could see them - like he was worried about what they might be getting up to if they wandered too far. Tony himself had been forced to go to a board meeting, and damn but those things sucked. The worst thing was they sucked worse if he didn’t prepare, as he’d get the impression that the dickwipe with the floor was talking crap, but wouldn't have the facts to call him on it; so there’d been a couple of days catching up on how the company was actually doing and then the day of doom. Bruce had basically locked himself away to keep his blood pressure down all week. 

Then, to make it even better, Clint and Natasha hadn’t been back for four hours before the doom-bots attacked downtown New York (and why was it always New York?). That had been eighteen hours ago now. 

They were all covered in debris, all a little battered. All in need of a little love, really. That was alright, they had protocols for this. Tony looked over and caught Steve's eye, saw from the set of his shoulders that he’d already reached the same decision. 

“Everyone,” Steve called, drawing their attention. “I’m going to shower and go up to the lounge level. I’d like if you all joined me.” 

Clint nodded quickly, his stance relaxing a little already. Natasha gave a small smile which meant she was probably in too. 

“It would give me the greatest pleasure,” Thor said, and even he couldn’t muster the same amount of boom he normally brought to these proceedings. That left Bruce. 

Bruce had moved back towards the door like he tended to what he was getting overwhelmed. He was probably still exhausted from hulking out - it always took a lot out of him. Tony moved to intercept his path as the others started stripping down for the shower. 

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “You know, you can run if you want, but if you come up there with us you don’t have to do anything but rest.” 

“I’m not good for much else,” Bruce admitted, and Tony noticed how he was slumped against the wall. He noticed how his shoulders were down like someone was pushing on him and Tony kind of hated that he got like this. Kind of wanted to lift some of that weight off. 

“You don’t need to do anything else,” Tony assured him again. “You know Steve likes us all close - you just need to be there and rest.” 

“Alright,” Bruce agreed. He peeled himself off the wall and Tony helped subtly, giving him some support as he peeled away his layers and stumbled through to the showers. He stripped and went in last. 

Normally, Tony hated routines but there was something soothing about this one. The lounge level, as they seemed to be calling it at the moment, was their escape. Different from the rest of the tower - the rules in there were different too. When he’d built it he’d just kind of intended it as a place where they could relax when they weren’t saving the world, and for a while that was all it was. A main room with a giant squishy couch and a massive TV. A kitchen. Other rooms with other things in - games rooms and a gym. 

Then things had changed. He didn’t even know how it had happened, but somehow they’d all grown comfortable with each other. Not outside the lounge floor - they still had professional lives to conduct and normality to maintain, but when they were up there…

He came out of the showers and towelled off quickly. Didn’t bother to get dressed. Bruce was waiting for him in the lift, the others having gone ahead. Bruce was wearing some sweatpants, not quite as comfortable in his own skin as Tony yet. They were getting him there. There’d been progress. Tony stepped in and pressed the button for the right floor and let Bruce lean into him, bringing a hand up to run up and down Bruce’s back. 

The lounge floor had changed a little since their relationships had changed. The room the lift opened to was more bed than room, really. He’d got rid of the couch and built a giant platform with mattresses, a kind of super-bed. You could still walk round the thing to get to the other rooms, most of which were also bedrooms now (for privacy) but it was this bed that most of the team was already collapsed on. 

Thor had sprawled out like he owned the space, fully naked and half erect. Natasha was curled under his arm in her sleeping gear - a t-shirt and some shorts. Clint was still perched on the end of the bed and dressed like Bruce, looking unfocused. He’d be able to talk care of that later. Or someone else would. That was the good thing about this floor. It was where they all belonged to each other. 

Bruce climbed slowly up on the bed and curled himself up into a ball to sleep. They hadn’t been able to break him of the habit yet. He climbed up himself and was about to address Clint when Steve came back into the room. 

One of the things that had shocked and delighted Tony when he found out about it was that Steve didn’t have a problem with casual nudity. He strode in now naked and glorious and if Tony was even a little bit less tired he’d be going over there to climb Steve like a tree. 

“Alright,” Steve said with a pleased little nod to see them all there. “I think we should all sleep for now. And tomorrow I think we need a break. I know there are things that need to be done but if everyone could try and be here for most of the day…” 

“That sounds like a great plan,” Tony agreed quickly. He had things to do but nothing that wouldn’t keep. He didn’t get to indulge in being on this floor with all the others often enough. It was actually pretty rare to find a time for all six of them to be here. 

“Good,” Steve said, climbing up onto the bed. “So, sleep now. Clint, do you think you can sleep and we can take care of you in the morning?” 

Clint hesitated for a second then nodded. Steve held out his arms and Clint went quickly, curling into Steve’s side. Clint’s need to be touched, for that kind of physical reassurance, was one of the things that had started this and one of the things they all loved about him. Tony moved quickly, plastering himself along Clint’s back and throwing an arm over him and Steve. He’d sleep here tonight and then, tomorrow, he’d finally get a little time to play. 

***

Steve slept like the dead. He didn’t really like that turn of phrase but it seemed apt, in this case. The others had all found it deeply amusing when they realised that once he was asleep it took something momentous to wake him up. They’d all presumed that soldier meant hair trigger reflexes like Clint or Natasha had, but in fact what it had meant was long hours in trenches or barricaded in places or huddled on the floor and the sure knowledge that you weren’t going to find anywhere better to sleep so it didn’t matter that someone was rushing past you shouting, you slept through it or you didn’t sleep at all. 

Apparently, at some point, he’d managed to sleep through Bruce, Tony, Thor and Clint all taking turns at trying to wake him up by sucking his cock. He was pretty sure the army hadn’t trained him to sleep through that but, well…

Either way, he wasn’t surprised to drift back to consciousness to find the pile of bodies he’d been sleeping with had moved on. There was nobody on top of him anyway, though he could still hear the comforting sounds of them moving around him. He wasn’t surprised, when he opened his eyes, to find Tony already sprawled out on the mattress with Thor pounding into him. 

It was a rather inspiring sight. Thor was always impressive in everything he did and Tony took it so beautifully. He was making the most wonderful, helpless little moans and whimpers as Thor fucked him that Steve couldn’t help but lean over and kiss him. Tony’s mouth went slack for him, letting Steve lead the kiss. One of the few times Tony let him lead without arguing. When he pulled back Thor was ready for him, reaching to pull him into a kiss that was a little more demanding than Tony’s. Steve kissed back fiercely, it soon becoming more of a fight than a kiss as they nipped at each other’s lips and tried to work their tongues into each other’s mouths. 

Steve didn’t let it last long. Thor was in the middle of something, after all. When he pulled back Thor grinned at him and then went casually back to fucking Tony who moaned under him. It was a beautiful sight. 

He forced himself up and away, leaving them together for now. There’d be time for both of them later. He had to check on the other members of his team first. 

He could hear a shower running in the distance. That was probably Natasha. And someone puttering in the kitchen. Almost definitely Bruce. 

He found Clint knelt at the end of the massive bed, a curl of rope on the floor beside him, waiting patiently. He looked up and smiled when Steve arrived but didn’t seem as impatient or rushed as he used to. Sure, there was still a tension there in his shoulders, little clues that told Steve Clint wasn’t entirely as composed as he’d like people to think. That told Steve Clint was still running the mission in his head. That told Steve Clint needed this. They just weren’t as bad as they had been before he’d admitted to what he’d needed. This was definitely better. 

“Has nobody taken care of you yet?” Steve asked, threading his fingers through Clint’s hair. He used his hold to tilt Clint’s head back so he could look him in the eye. 

“Natasha told me to wait,” he said, fidgeting a little. “I wanted to be good.” 

“You are being good,” Steve assured him. He still wasn’t the best at the entire verbal praise thing Clint seemed to need so much of, but he tried. “You want me to tie you now?” 

“Please,” Clint said, lifting the rope and offering it to Steve. He uncoiled it quickly and signaled for Clint to stand and turn. Clint did so with grace. It was lovely to watch. Clint and Natasha both moved so smoothly it made Steve feel like some kind of fumbling giant beside them. Clint put his hands behind his back without having to be asked, crossing them at the wrist and waiting. 

This bit Steve was better at. The ropes were easy and while, at first, it had been a challenge to bind Clint so that he couldn't escape, that did what he needed it to, they all knew how to do it now. Steve enjoyed this particular job. He liked the almost immediate results. The way Clint’s shoulders slumped at his hands were trapped. His body just accepting the helplessness. Accepting that he was safe here and he could let go. 

“Thank you,” Clint whispered as Steve finished the knot and tucked it inside the bindings where Clint would struggle to reach it. Steve didn’t say anything but turned Clint so he could kiss him slowly and deeply. 

When he pulled back Clint’s eyes were glazed and his lips hung open for a second as though waiting for Steve to come back. Steve reached up and ran his thumb over Clint’s lips. So beautiful. It would be a shame to waste an expression like that. 

“I want to fuck your mouth,” Steve said, thump resting possessively on Clint’s bottom lip. “You going to let me do that?” 

Clint nodded and Steve grinned, pushing Clint to his knees. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was already half hard so he didn’t take much to work himself up, not with Clint sat there looking at him with big eyes, his mouth still hanging open. He worked his fingers through Clint’s hair, gently pulling him closer. Clint went without argument, opening his mouth further ready. 

“Hey,” Steve said, stroking Clint’s face. “You don’t get to come from this, right? Not until everyone else has come.” 

Clint nodded and Steve scooted forward, lining up and then pulling Clint in so he could slide his dick down Clint’s throat. Clint went loose as he swallowed, taking it perfectly. Steve didn’t know why Clint had no gag reflex and frankly he didn’t care. Clint swallowed around him, almost choking on Steve’s cock. Just this side of too much, just like Steve knew Clint liked it. He started to thrust his hips, pulling back far enough to let Clint get a proper breath and then thrusting back into that delicious wet heat. Clint moaned around him and it was wonderful every time. Made Steve want to fuck deeper and harder but now wasn’t the time. He was setting the limits here, he was responsible for not hurting Clint. 

It didn’t take long for Clint to bring his first orgasm out of him. It was quick and shuddering and intense, like hitting a brick wall. He came into Clint’s mouth and watched Clint, glassy eyes, wet lips, come running down his face. It was strange and erotic and he didn’t know what it said about him that he liked this so much. 

“Thank you,” Clint said, and Steve sank quickly to the ground to kiss him again, letting himself murmur reassurances into Clint’s lips. 

***

Natasha washed her hair. It was a luxury she'd learned to never take for granted, because for every week of her life she'd had regular access to a shower, she was sure she'd had a month where she'd been stuck without one. 

Shampoo dripped between her fingers as she rinsed. She considered her wet hair thoughtfully, twining it through her fingers. Might be time for another cut. Maybe a dye job? Or maybe she should grow it out. It'd been a while since she'd had long hair …

Outside the bathroom she could hear sounds that suggested the boys were having fun without her, and she smiled. Maybe she'd better finish up in here and go supervise. That was the nice thing about this … arrangement. She could be there, enjoy that atmosphere, without having to participate unless she wanted to. 

Shutting off the shower, she towelled off, thinking. Trying to figure out if she wanted to just yet, and figuring maybe she didn't. She pulled her shirt and shorts back on, and padded back into the main room. Steve was lounging against the wall near the bathroom, watching. Natasha sighed. It always took Steve so long to wind down and let go, and he was the one of them who almost needed it the most, in some ways. He didn't watch the way Nat or Bruce did, was the thing. He didn't watch like watching was the point, and he didn't get off on watching either. He watched like a supervisor, or maybe a guard, always trying to figure out what everyone else needed. 

Natasha bumped shoulders with him, or, well, kind of bumped her shoulder to his upper arm. He hadn't noticed her walk up behind him. 'Hey,' he said, surprised but welcoming. 'You smell nice.'

'Pepper has good taste in bodywash,' she informed him, kind of wishing the lady of the house was here with them as she said it. She wasn't going to comment on the smell of the rest of them. It wasn't _bad_ , but it was the smell of sweaty man. Not exactly competition for Pepper Potts' excellent judgement in high-end soap, or the scent of her hair as Natasha kissed the back of her neck ...

Steve looked at Natasha with the slightly distant squint that said he was working out a knotty tactical problem, and reached out to touch her gently on the shoulder. She let him, but she didn't move into it. 'You, uh ...' he began, voice lifting like it was going to be a question but he didn't know how to ask it. 

That was okay. Nat kind of knew what it was going to be. She shook her head. 'Nah,' she said. 'I don't. Not right now, anyway.' 

Steve looked worried. 'Are you sure?'

Nat rolled her eyes, but smiled. It was hard to be irritated with Steve when he tried so hard to look after them all. He still hadn't quite figured out that she didn't need him to look after her. 'I'm sure. How about you, though, bucko?'

'Oh … me and Clint, y'know,' he said, blushing (which Nat thought was adorable, in a way she could admit was jaded of her). 

She looked over to where Clint was kneeling, bound and looking dopey, lost in his own thoughts. 'I can see that,' she said. 'Glad someone's taking care of him.' She was. He needed the relaxation. He'd always been so much of a control freak, so hypervigilant - it was good for him to let go once in a while.

She'd ask if anyone had been taking care of Steve, but that way lay a dismissal of the idea that anyone needed to, and that would make Steve uncomfortable two different ways simultaneously, so she didn't bother. But there was more than one way to skin a cat. 'Tony looks like he could use a distraction, though,' she added. The man in question was fiddling with a wall panel full of buttons. Probably actually just ordering another boatload of pizza, knowing Tony, but it looked more like work than like relaxation. 

Steve's ears practically pricked up. Natasha mentally awarded herself ten points as Steve started across the room, a man on a mission. Tony cottoned on to the fact that he was the target before Steve was halfway, and shot Nat a quizzical look. She shrugged, and winked. If anyone could see the knotty problem of Getting Steve Rogers to Lighten Up A Little, it was Tony Stark. 

She could trust him to get the job done. And meanwhile, she could very, very happily enjoy the view. She padded over to Clint and sat, pulling him to lie down and put his head in her lap. 

'Mmmm, hey,' said Clint, as she ran her fingers through his hair. 'Y'want something?' His eyes were eager and warm, and she knew, if she asked him for something, whatever it was, he'd do a good job.

'Yeah, Clint,' she said softly. 'I want to relax. And I want you to just be here with me while I do it.'

'I can do that,' murmured Clint. 'I can do that.'

Natasha leaned back, and smiled. 

***

Tony let JARVIS pick the pizzas. The AI had ten years' worth of cumulative pizza-choice data from Tony and every other person who'd ever turned up at dinner time, he'd probably make a more successful set of choices than Tony would anyway, and _he_ didn't have a determined-faced and buck-naked Steve Rogers bearing down on him. Tony was within his rights to be very, very distracted

He closed the little control panel hatch and turned fully towards Steve, opening his arms wide. 'Captain,' he said as cheerfully as he could. 'Can I help you?' Because, y'know, Tony liked to think he read people well, but Steve, Steve could be hard work. Despite their orgy-tastic surroundings, Steve could still be heading towards Tony because he wanted to debrief about the goddamn mission, not destress from it. And that, in Tony's opinion, was not acceptable and would not abide. 

'Busy?' Steve asked as he drew near. Tony shrugged. 

'No, just hungry,' he said. 'But it's okay. JARVIS has it under control. Which means I am all yours. What d'you need, oh Captain my Captain?'

Steve shrugged. 'Just coming to see how you're doing,' he said, trying for casual, and Tony rolled his eyes internally. Typical Steve. It always took so long to get the guy to let go, and he was so used to being the one looking after everyone else, giving the orders, having the plans, and everyone else was so used to it too that they let him get away with it. 

Fortunately for everyone, Tony has always kind of had a problem with authority.

'Then get over here, Cap,' Tony said, beckoning. 'Cos I'm doing good, but I can always be doing better.'

Steve came over easy enough, clearly seeing a challenge in Tony's eyes. 

They kissed like they always kissed, which was basically the same way they did everything - playing to win. It was Steve that wrestled Tony up against the wall, but it was Tony that grabbed their dicks in one hand and started to stroke, rough enough that Steve's spine turned into hot, molten lead and he sagged against Tony and the wall both in equal quantities. 

Fuck yes, Tony was the god of sex and even supersoldiers must kneel before him. Sometimes literally. But that's not what he wanted right at that moment. He wanted simple, raw - he wanted to make a point. He wanted to win. He jerked their cocks hard and slow and sure, and nudged Steve's head back up until he could kiss him again. Oxygen was overrated, Steve didn't need it. Tony wanted him to stop fucking _thinking_ and if it took a good solid dose of anoxia then so be it. 

Steve flung his head up, glassy-eyed, gasping for breath, and Tony took the opportunity to bite him, sucking, leaving a hickey that he knew wouldn't last, and Steve full-body shuddered, staggering two steps back from the wall and dragging Tony with him, down to the mattress, down and pinned and Steve grabbed Tony's wrists and held tight, maneouvred them up and over Tony's head until he could hold on one-handed and then use the other to do as Tony had just been doing, and jerk them both off together. Except Steve's hands were bigger, warmer, less calloused but infinitely stronger. And Tony wasn't Clint but there was sure as shit something good about being held down like this. 

They both came, within seconds of each other, sweating and shaking and Tony was pretty sure he'd kneed Steve in the ribs by accident, not that Steve probably even noticed, and okay, maybe the five minutes of breathing into each other's skin where neither of them said a word wasn't the surrender to group sex and not thinking about missions that Tony had been hoping to get out of Steve, but it was something. By the time the good Captain had got to his feet and pulled Tony back up as well, he'd lost at least some of the tension in the lines of his body that he'd had before. 

And that was a start. 

***

The main area was quiet at the moment. Peaceful. Clint liked it this way. Not that he didn’t like it when everyone was in here bustling around but there was something to be said for lying quietly on the floor, bound and helpless, knowing that his team were all roaming around somewhere and, if he shouted, they’d come and help him. He felt peaceful, cared for. 

Owned. 

He’d talked to people about this, the thing where he needed to be tied up and used to properly relax. Contrary to what some people in the team thought about him he did know how to talk about his feelings. He even had a therapist at S.H.I.E.L.D. who’d got him through some shit over the years and they’d talked about this. At length. Especially when he first started this with Phil and they’d both been trying to understand what the other needed. He knew it had to do with his messed up childhood. He knew his sense of inadequacy and the chip he carried on his shoulder that his involvement in all of this was a mistake and that any minute now someone would turn around and tell him to leave was somewhere in there too. He didn’t really give a damn. This made him feel cared for and like he belonged and he needed it. 

After New York, when he’d been alone, in the gap between the group being told Phil was dead and the group being told Phil wasn’t quite as dead as all that, he’d been lost. It was stupid because he’d gone for longer without being put into this head space before. Gone months while they were on missions, while it wasn’t safe. And after just a few weeks with Phil dead he fell to pieces. 

His therapist said it was the grief. Grief did strange things to people. Either way, his team had been the ones to pick up the pieces. To give him a new home, even though Phil was back now. He sometimes wondered what would have happened it he hadn’t needed this - if they hadn’t come together in the way they were in this space Tony had made for them. Then he decided it wasn’t worth thinking about. 

Not that he should be thinking this much at all. Not when he was tied and safe. That kind of shit was someone else’s problem at the moment. He needed a distraction. 

Thankfully, Tony was apparently psychic as, just as Clint was thinking about it, he emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hands, eyes sweeping around until they landed on Clint and stopped. Tony smiled a pleased little smile, the one that meant everything was going well and that he only ever seemed to use in these rooms and then he headed on over. 

“Hey,” Tony said, dropping to his knees by where Clint was lying. “You want a drink?” 

“Yes please,” Clint said, tilting his head back a little. Tony smiled and petted his hair before opening the bottle and holding it to Clint’s lips gently. Clint drank, letting Tony set the speed the water entered his mouth at. Sometimes Phil liked to pour a little too quickly when he did this, letting the water run out of Clint’s mouth and over his cheeks and then licking it up himself. Tony wasn’t the type. There was nothing sensual about this particular act. It was care. 

Phil didn’t quite believe that Tony was the carer of the group yet. He would, one day, when Clint got him integrated. 

“Alright,” Tony said, withdrawing the water bottle. “How are you feeling? Everyone taking care of you?” 

“Everyone’s taking care of me,” Clint agreed, lowering his head again. Tony’s hand came back to stroke through his hair. “I’m good. Calm.” 

“Good,” Tony said, leaning in and kissing him. Tony was a skilled lover, adaptable, and Clint was more than happy to lie back and let him do his thing. He was slow and thorough and about as filthy as you’d expect and Clint loved it. 

“Have you come yet?” Tony asked when he pulled back. 

“No,” Clint said, missing the kiss already. “Steve said I can’t until everyone else has come.” 

“You know, I think we’re there now,” Tony said. "I mean...maybe not Bruce…” 

“Not Natasha either,” Clint said, because he knew that one for sure. “But it’s okay. I like waiting.” 

“You do, you’re so good at doing what you’re told,” Tony said. His gaze was turning speculative and he moved his hand from Clint’s hair down over his chest. It felt good and Clint let himself moan a little at the contact. He could make all the noise he liked here. This was a safe space. “Want to make me come?” 

“Yes,” Clint said, because he always wanted to make people come. He was good at it and he loved being useful. 

“Think you can keep Steve’s rule about not coming if I fuck you?” Tony asked, his fingers tracing lazy circles on Clint’s hips. Clint took a second to think about it as Tony had use the tone of voice that made it an actual question, not just a statement. After a second he nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said. It would be difficult but he could be good for Tony and for Steve. “Can...can you do something for me?” 

“I’m listening,” Tony said, withdrawing his hands and sitting back. He did listen when Clint asked and sometimes gave him what he wanted. He was like Phil in that way. Steve was too lenient, gave Clint everything he asked for. Natasha could be too far the other way, didn’t like that he even asked. 

“When you’ve fucked me, can you put something in me, to keep me open?” 

“Sure,” Tony said, grinning. “I like that idea. You get up on the bed, I’ll find a plug.” 

As Tony walked away Clint forced himself up. It was hard without the use of his arms but he managed to roll and sit and then stand and walk to the bed. He climbed on, lying out in the rumpled sheets. They stank of sweat and sex and belonging and it was wonderful. It wasn’t long before Tony came back, laying some things down on the bed and then climbing up after him. 

“I’ve had a thought,” Tony said, leaning in and rolling Clint over onto his back. Clint went readily, spreading his legs as he moved. Tony stopped for a second to run his hands over Clint’s thighs. Clint gasped. He was starting to get hard already, this was going to be a trial. “You want to be filled after. I can do that but I want something in return. You can say no but if you do I won’t put a plug in you.” 

“What do you want?” Clint asked. He’d agree to just about anything but it was good to check what he was signing up for. 

Tony reached down behind himself and then held his hand up again. He was holding a gag. Clint felt his eyes widen, his pulse speed up. Helpless. If he said yes to this he’d be helpless - unable to cry out. Not that he didn’t have a signal and Tony wouldn’t stop if he used it but…

But he wanted it. Wanted that feeling of being completely at the mercy of someone else. Of just being a thing for them to use. God but he wanted it. He didn’t say yes, he couldn’t. Instead he just opened his mouth as wide as he could and Tony understood. It was a ball gag, big, and it filled his mouth. It was probably going to make his jaw ache wonderfully. He tried to say something once Tony had it where he wanted it but he couldn’t make the words come out clearly. 

He was definitely hard now. So hard. But he wasn’t going to come because Steve said not to and he wanted to be good for Steve. Wanted Steve to be proud of him. 

“Good,” Tony said, and Clint’s eyes drifted closed at the approval. God but he loved when they told him he was good. “You look so good like that,” Tony said, tracing a hand down Clint’s side. “Now, roll over for me.” 

Clint did, switching from his back to his front and leaving his ass in the air. Exposed. But that was alright as Tony would take care of him. Tony was already taking care of him, hands everywhere and soft approving words falling from his lips that made Clint’s stomach curl and his erection even harder to control. He lifted his hips when Tony asked so Tony could slip a pillow under them and then settled and waited. 

Tony didn’t make him wait long, he wasn’t a man with much patience. He went straight in without foreplay, sliding a wet finger between Clint’s cheeks and then into him and without foreplay was good. Without foreplay was great as Clint was already so turned on he might have died if Tony had taken his time. 

Tony kept up the stream of nonsense words and praise as he opened Clint up easily, fingers rubbing deliciously inside him and it was too much, it felt too good, and Clint said it, cried it, but it was lost in the gag and it was wonderful because Tony didn’t stop and it was nearly overwhelming enough to be just right. 

And then Tony’s hands were gone and he was pressing up behind Clint, hard and ready and Clint could only moan as Tony sank in, pressing his entire weight down on Clint’s back. Some of the other wouldn't do this. They’d treat him like he was breakable and sometimes that was exactly what he needed but sometimes he just needed to be held down. 

He lost a lot of coherency then in the press of Tony’s body into his and the desperate scramble to not come. He couldn’t because Steve had told him not to but Tony was so very good at this and he kept saying such filthy things about how tight Clint was, how wet he was, how well he took it, how good he was. 

Clint dug his nails into his own palm and bit down on the ball gag, fighting the need to come. He tried thinking unsexy things but how was he meant to focus on anything else when he was bound and gagged and Tony was taking him from behind and telling him he was good but he couldn’t because Steve wanted him to wait and he wanted to be good for Steve so badly. Wanted to make them all proud of him so badly. 

And then Tony was coming, gasping and gripping Clint’s hips and Clint sobbed with the need to come but he didn’t because he was good. He was a good boy and he’d done what Steve asked and he was so achingly hard he felt like he might die if he didn’t come soon but he wouldn’t and they’d all be so proud. 

He was being so good. 

Tony pulled back out of him, giving his ass a slap as he went and tears sprung into Clint’s eyes with the herculean effort of not coming at the touch. Thankfully Tony’s next act was to roll Clint over onto his back, which got rid of the press of the pillow at least and the instinct to rut. Clint lay back, closed his eyes, and for a while he just focused on not coming. 

He didn’t know how long he lay there but eventually his body started to come back from the edge. He was horribly turned on still but he didn’t feel like he might come any second. When he finally let his eyes open Tony was lying there next to him, watching. 

“You have the most amazing self control,” Tony said, kissing his cheek. “When we’ve all come we’re going to have to do something amazing for you to show you just how good you’ve been.” 

Clint nodded tiredly because he couldn’t do anything else. Tony kissed him again and moved away. A second later he came back with the plug. It was longer than Tony’s cock but probably thinner. Still a pretty big thing to stick in him. 

“You still want this?” Tony asked and Clint could only nod as yeah, he wanted that. Wanted it so much. To have his mouth full of the gag and his ass full of the plug and to just be laid here open and exposed to anyone but safe - so very safe. He wanted that. Tony didn’t ask again, just reached for the lube and a second later the plug was sliding into place. Clint had to bite down on the gag but he didn’t come. It settled into place easily and Tony moved back to kiss his forehead. 

“There, that good?” Tony asked and Clint nodded. “Good. I’m going to leave you like this for a while, that alright?” Clint nodded again as he wasn’t sure he could have moved if he’d wanted to and more time lying here in their blankets to recover sounded amazing. Tony nodded again, kissed him again, on the nose this time, and then he was gone. 

Clint lay there, he was alone again and he’d never used to like that but now it was okay. It was okay because he knew that if he stayed here Thor would come along and lift him up and fuck him, or Bruce would come and stroke his hair, or Steve would come and check how he was doing with not coming or Natasha would lie with him. He wasn’t alone here, not ever. And he loved it. 

***

To Thor's way of thinking, this way of celebrating victory and comrades was natural - but he was aware that to some of his teammates the concept was still foreign, and they were uncertain, sometimes, of how to initiate, how to participate. Sometimes as well, he had observed, they did not all want the same thing the same way. And so it behove Thor, as far as he could see, to bridge what gaps he could see forming, and to give as he was asked before taking for himself. 

With this team, in this space, that could never be a hardship anyway. 

Having sought and found pleasure with Tony, his wildness unutterably good-feeling as he bucked and half-fought his way through sex, Thor found himself contemplating Natasha, as she lazed against a pile of cushions and watched the others at play. She was as feral as Tony in her way, as prickly and untouchable if she wished - they both had thorny defences, sharp minds and sharp tongues that made them hard to be with if they so chose. But it made them a challenge and it made them beautiful, and Thor watched Natasha watching, saw that her briar-and-bramble walls were crumbling as she relaxed, and could not help the stirrings of desire that that kindled in him, for he truly loved to be with a woman who could say no as well as yes. And as he watched she slipped a hand between her own legs, and he knew that perhaps now she might be open to his attentions. 

'M'lady,' he said courteously, moving to sit beside her. 'If it is pleasure you seek I would be truly honoured to give it to you.'

She looked up at him with her tawny, cool eyes and smiled. 'I bet you would,' she said, not removing her hand, and he thought for a moment that she would dismiss him, but then she pulled her fingers clear and offered them to him. 'C'mon then,' she said. 'Help a girl out?'

With a rumble springing unbidden deep in his throat, Thor leaned forward to suck on her fingers, clean the taste of her from them, before moving to nudge and kneel between her thighs. She sprawled back against the low mound of pillows, spreading her legs for him as if well-pleased by his actions, and he kissed her warm mouth softly, then the hollow of her throat, her breasts under her pyjama top, where her nipples were tightening - he stopped to nuzzle each one, to suck them lightly through the cloth to feel her gasp - down to her navel, bared by top and shorts parting as she moved to accommodate him, and then he peeled the shorts down over her hips, with her help. 

'I want to taste you,' he said, making it a question and looking at her for her answer. She was not Clint, to be excited by being pushed and the illusion of force. She was a different thing altogether, and just as beautiful. 

'Sure thing,' she said, still smiling, as if perhaps he had pleased her or she was amused by him, or both, and he was filled with pride and lust by the permission, and bent his head to lick at her. She tasted of something bright and warm, like metal, and Thor pushed at her knees to part them further so that he could be closer, his hands curling under around her buttocks to hold her steady for his tongue. 

She made quiet, hungry noises under him, fisted her hands in his hair to guide him and he liked that, felt wanton and good, when he responded to her unspoken orders he obeyed and she praised him, 'oh, fuck, yeah, that's right,' she said, almost growling it with the sound of her smile still thick in her tone, 'just a little higher, harder, yes -' and his hands fell away to hold himself up as she closed her thighs, her ankles crossed behind his shoulders, and she rubbed herself up against him as her pleasure took her, shaking, raking her fingers across his scalp until she was still and lax again, and he could pull himself free and breathe, pant, harder than steel just looking at her but with no illusions that he would be allowed to do as he longed, and bury himself within her glorious body. Hungry for his own release, he wrapped his hand around his own length, but she stopped him. 

'Think I owe you one, big guy,' she said lazily, legs spread for him once more and her fingers beckoning, and he came to her and sank into her space and she opened for him welcomingly, as if he was worthy. And when he was almost at his peak, she kept her fingers twined in his hair, and told him he had done well, that he had pleased her, and it was that that drove him to climax. 

***

A good long afterglow was, in Natasha’s opinion, a better thing than an actual orgasm. Probably because they were rarer. Far too often what passed as a sex life for her had consisted of quick and hard and then gone before things get messy. She was glad this was different. 

Thor recovered long before Natasha even contemplated peeling herself from the sheets so when she did move, limbs still heavy and full, he was already busy with Clint. Clint looked peaceful, content, so with a smile she slid from the bed and wandered towards the kitchen area where she could smell hints of tea being brewed. 

In the most private corner of the kitchen, where the others were unlikely to see him, Bruce was leaning back against the counter. His expression was blank, his eyes distant. 

Bruce was never a joiner when they took time like this. He was no Tony, always in the middle of everything that was happening. He was like her, preferring a side seat and a more directorial role if he took any at all. This, though, was not that. This wasn’t Bruce enjoying the view, this was Bruce opting out. 

If one of the others had noticed him here they would probably have come over by now and tried to draw him back in but with so many personalities in a room it was hard to notice when a quiet one faded away. Anyway, it was probably better that she found him. She understood something about not taking part. 

She moved over slowly, being sure to make noise so she didn’t startle him. He didn’t respond as she reached around him for the tea pot. It was warm and heavy in her hand and when she lifted the lid she saw it was done brewing - one of the flowering teas Bruce liked open in the bottom of the pot. Too subtle a flavour for most of the team but they both enjoyed them. She took two cups and poured the tea and, when she forced the cup into his hands, Bruce blinked back to himself. 

“Thank you,” he said automatically, taking the cup from her. She smiled but didn’t say anything, lifting her own cup to her lips and enjoying the smell and the flavour. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Bruce drifted over a little, scanning the main area. Tony and Steve were off in one of the adjoining rooms, she honestly wasn’t worrying about them yet, and on the bed Clint had his mouth on Thor. She moved to stand next to Bruce for a moment and they watched together as Thor reached down to hold Clint’s head and began to gently fuck into his mouth, Clint’s eyes going glassy as the treatment in the way that Natasha knew meant he was getting the thing that he needed from this. 

If only they were all getting what they needed from this. 

“Thank you for the tea,” she said, eyes on Thor. 

“It’s no problem,” Bruce said. “It’s nice to have someone else appreciate it, too.” 

“It’s not to everyone’s taste,” she agreed. “I think most of our team prefer something more aggressive in flavour but there’s definitely something to be said for gentler tastes.” 

Bruce hummed around the lip of his cup and they fell back into silence, watching the scene on the bed play out. It was beautiful in a way, a show as Clint’s submission and willingness to please as much as Thor’s strength. She wished Clint could find that place in himself where he could give without them having to use the props but he struggled. She understood that. 

She looked over to Bruce and he was gone again. Down into his own head, away from what was happening. She’d hoped that watching with him would bring him back out but maybe he did need something more active today. Someone to pull him out of himself if he wanted to go or not. 

She gently took the cup from his hands but he didn’t seem to notice, letting her pluck it from his fingers. She turned to wash the cups, taking her time to rinse them methodically and when she turned back he was gone. Not unexpected but she’d hoped…

A quick search proved he wasn’t on this floor any more, however she did find Tony lounging with a glass of scotch. She couldn’t be what Bruce needed now but maybe...

***

“Give him some space,” Natasha had said. “We know he’s safe. He’ll come back when he’s ready,” Natasha had said. 

It was a good thing he knew she didn’t mean that. If she meant that she wouldn’t have come to him because there was no way he was going to leave Bruce out. The entire point of the thing they were doing here was that nobody got left out. He knew he was kind of obtuse but it didn’t take much to see what a desperate bunch of losers they were. Clint had been the excuse but they all needed it and, if he was being honest, he needed to provide it. 

As soon as Natasha had slipped back out to do whatever Natasha did around here when she wasn’t humouring the rest of them he headed out. He didn’t bother stopping to grab his clothes. He wasn’t going to be gone long. 

It didn’t take him long to find Bruce, of course. The truth was that out of all the Avengers, Bruce was probably the one he knew best. Of course he was, the shared lab space at times. That was a kind of sacred bond. You couldn’t share lab space with someone you didn’t trust implicitly. Of course, when Bruce was upset, he’d go back to the lab. That’s where Tony would go after all. 

Bruce didn’t seem surprised when Tony walked in, completely naked, and sat himself down on the chair at his desk. He took a second to regret being naked. Even he wasn’t crazy enough to start working with machinery when he wasn’t wearing anything and he and Bruce always had their best talks when they had other things to focus on. He flipped the computer on and threw up a few screens anyway. He called up the latest design for the repulsors and tweaked a few things before he dared a glance at Bruce. 

Bruce wasn’t looking his way but was clearly aware of Tony being there. There was a tightness across his shoulder and it was quickly becoming Tony’s mission in life to try and get rid of that tightness. Tony turned back to the monitors before he spoke. 

“So, what’s so exciting you couldn’t wait to work on it?” 

And, alright, that came out more passive-aggressive than he’d meant for it to but, well, he was a kind of passive-aggressive guy at times. 

“Tony,” Bruce said, and his tone was almost pleasing. Tony hated that, hated it so much. 

“I’m not...look, if you really don’t want to be up there with us you don’t have to be. I can’t make you, you know. I just want to know what’s wrong.” 

“It’s not you,” Bruce said quickly. “I’m just not in a good place right now.”

“I didn’t ask if it was me,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes. “I mean, I know I’m a pretty ego-centric guy and all but I do know that not everything’s about me. I want to know what’s going on with you.” 

“It’s nothing,” Bruce insisted, but Bruce always insisted that. “I’m just not in the mood.” 

“And, again, that’s fine. I just want to know what’s made you not in the mood. If it’s something we can fix.” 

“You don’t need to fix it,” Bruce said and, yeah, there was some frustration in his tone. Tony was very aware that any other member of the team would take that as a sign to back of but Tony had never been afraid of the other guy and he wasn’t about to let Bruce use him as a shield now. 

“No, but if we can we want to,” Tony insisted, looking up at Bruce. Bruce was still staring down at his work but he obviously wasn’t going anything with it any more. “We enjoy having you with us.” 

Bruce snorted, his shoulders hunching forward and, yeah, Tony was done with hiding behind a lab bench. Sometimes it worked but right now Bruce looked wretched and it wasn’t going to fix that by hiding and pretending it wasn’t happening. He slid out of his chair and padded carefully over to Bruce. He didn’t touch the other man yet but he leant against the work station. 

“Seriously,” Tony said when Bruce didn’t reply. “This entire thing is about us as a team and about, well, giving us space to just be people and if anyone needs that it’s you.” 

“But I’m not just a person,” Bruce said, his hands curling into fists. Tony didn’t let it bother him. Just because he didn’t have any idea what he was doing didn’t mean he was going to back down now. 

“Is this other-guy related angst?” he asked instead, shifting a little closer. “We know he requires special consideration, nobody minds.” 

“I mind,” Bruce snapped back. “What am I meant to do up there? Say, hey, want to fuck me? Only you’ll have to go slow or I might turn into a giant rage monster and tear you to pieces?” 

“Why not?” Tony said with a shrug. “Won me over. Come on.” 

“No,” Bruce said, and yeah, that was frustration in his voice. Tony wasn’t normally good at people but he’d been around Bruce long about that he knew all the tones of voice he used in relation to Tony. “It’s not...it’s not safe.” 

“And having sex with Thor is entirely safe as there’s no chance he’ll forget his own strength. Or Steve too, for that matter. Or you remember that one time Natasha almost strangled Thor because he touched her the wrong way and we all had to have counselling? That was fun. I was hoping the floor of sex would never appear on any official S.H.I.E.L.D. records but we really needed the help that time.” 

“So you’re saying if the other guy came out you wouldn’t mind?” Bruce said, and that tone was incredulous which had Tony rolling his eyes. 

“Well yeah, I’d mind, because it’d mean we were doing something wrong with you. But I have contingency plans. We all know the evacuation routes and you know the floor is hulk-proof. I mean, the other guy would probably smash up the bed pretty badly and he could tear down a few walls but he wouldn’t get off the floor.” 

“But he’d ruin it for everyone else.” 

“And if that’s the price we pay to find out what works for you and what doesn’t then we’re all happy to pay it. There’s be other days, other chances, but we want you with us.” 

“You can’t be sure it’ll go right,” Bruce said, and his tone was calmer now, flatter. He was giving in. 

“No,” Tony agreed. “But I’m an engineer. The way I work is to do something and then when it goes wrong I find out why it failed and make it better. Maybe you’ll actually get into bed with us properly and you’ll lose control and break a few walls, but that’ll give us data and next time we can do it different, smarter. You understand what I’m saying?” 

“Yes,” Bruce said, hesitant but almost hopeful. Tony let himself touch then, leaning in and putting his arm around Bruce’s shoulder. 

“You going to come back up there with me?” 

“Yes,” Bruce said after a second’s hesitation. “But when we get up there it has to be you. I get that you’re crazy enough to think that it’s worth it but the others aren’t. Don’t try to push them.” 

“What if they want to come over?” Tony asked. “What if they understand and what to join in?” 

“We’ll deal with it when it happens,” Bruce said, and tony shrugged because if that was how Bruce wanted to play he could stick by those rules. Then he leant in to kiss Bruce, because kissing Bruce was always good. 

***

Bruce managed to hold back the uncertainty, the nagging fear that he was doing the wrong thing, until the door to the lounge floor shut behind them. The main area was mostly abandoned, only Natasha lounging on an easy chair watching, but he knew the others were close by. In the shower or resting. Close enough for something awful to happen. 

He would have backed out but Tony was right behind him, hands coming to cup Bruce’s hips as they stopped. A supportive gesture, not actually tight enough to stop Bruce if he wanted to run but a reminder that he was wanted. 

He had no idea why but he was wanted here and that was as good a reason as any to stay. 

“Come on,” Tony whispered into his ear, sliding his hands around to lie on the fly of Bruce’s trousers. “Let’s get these off.” 

“Alright,” Bruce said, biting down on the impulse to run. He did want this, he really did. Tony was an attractive man and surprisingly good at bringing out the best of people in bed. He didn’t want to go through the rest of his life without having another orgasm because of fear of the other guy. He just really didn’t want to hurt anyone. “You stop if I tell you to.” 

“Always,” Tony promised, gently opening the fly of Bruce’s trousers. “And say it if you mean it but I think I can get you relaxed enough that you won’t even be thinking about stopping.” 

“I wouldn’t hope too much,” Bruce said, but when Tony slid his trousers down he stepped out of them. When Tony tugged at his shirt he let the other man lift it over his head. He didn’t like being completely naked up here, though it wasn’t so bad when it was only Tony and Natasha. He knew he wasn’t bad on the eye but there was something about having a direct comparison between his body and Steve’s that knocked his confidence every time. Not that Tony wasn’t great to look at to but something about the arc reactor, the scars, while they should have made him less approachable they actually made him more so. 

Maybe that was just Bruce, though. Just because he kept his fatal mistake on the inside didn’t mean he didn’t recognise a kindred spirit. 

He must have been thinking too much for Tony’s taste as the other man leant in to kiss him, bringing his back to himself with soft lips and warm hands and stubble on his chin. Bruce leant into the kiss but was surprised when Tony kept it soft and almost chaste, lips closed, hands staying on Bruce’s hips and not straying to other, potentially more interesting parts of his body. 

“Hi,” Tony said when he pulled back. “You with me?” 

“Yes,” Bruce said, lifting his hands to lay over Tony’s hands. “I’m with you.” 

“Good,” Tony said with a grin. “Come to bed.” 

Bruce let Tony lead him across the plush carpet to the bed. Normally he hung back around the edges unless they were sleeping so it was quite a novel experience to crawl up there with Tony. It felt like a stage, like he was on show. It helped that Natasha was the only one watching and he trusted her. 

"Stop thinking so much ," Tony grumbled. "I can feel you thinking from here. This isn't about thoughts. It's about letting go and feeling." 

"Historically, that hasn't gone so well for me," Bruce pointed out, but when Tony pushed him back onto the bed he went willingly. Tony's weight above him was warm and welcome. Stable. He couldn't help but think of Tony's complete lack of self-preservation instinct when it came to himself and the other guy as a bad thing, though it was an endearing one. It meant Bruce could enjoy the feeling of Tony straddling his hips and leaning down over him because if Tony wouldn't run from the other guy at least he wouldn't be shocked or afraid of him. 

Tony kissed like an experiment, one minute this and one minute that. He seemed to be looking for the exact combination of teeth and lips and tongue that would melt Bruce entirely and Bruce was willing to let him try. 

Bruce wasn't sure how long they lay there kissing but eventually either Tony found that perfect ratio or Bruce became overwhelmed just by the sheer persistence of Tony's affection. The longer they kissed the more he felt himself sinking into the mattress until even keeping his arms up around Tony's shoulders was too much like effort and he let them fall. 

Of course, not every part of Bruce was quite so relaxed as his arms. In fact, one part of him that maybe hadn't received the attention he'd like it too recently was showing rather a lot of interest. It wasn't like he hadn't touched himself since the other guy, it was just difficult. When he started to get somewhere he'd become tense and, well...

He'd managed to come once. After a mission that had involved transforming several times. He'd been tired right down to his bones and the act of touching himself had been almost accidental. The orgasm when it came had been quick and quiet and almost painful. He hoped it wouldn't be like that today. Not that he thought Tony would actually get him that far but it was nice to be touched anyway. 

Tony, though, seemed entirely disinterested in touching Bruce there for now. He kept his hands above the metaphorical belt though he couldn't be accused of being idle. Instead he rubbed at Bruce's chest, his sides, his back. Anything he could reach without going too low. 

Bruce hadn't felt so relaxed in years. Almost relaxed enough that he was beginning to think this might be possible. 

So, if it might be possible he might as well take a risk. After all, it was a long time since he'd been touched like this and even if he didn't get to come there were things he'd like to feel again. 

"Tony," he said against Tony's lips. He had to say it a couple of times before Tony pulled back enough to listen properly. "Tony, I want you to fuck me."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, rubbing circles into Bruce's stomach. "You could fuck me? Or we don't have to fuck. We can stay hands and mouths only?"

"I'm sure," Bruce said. "I'm still not convinced you'll get me to orgasm but I want to feel it again and, well, if the worst does happen you'll be less likely to be hurt if you're the one doing the fucking." 

"I'll take the risk of being fucked if you want," Tony said with a shrug but Bruce just shook his head. Maybe another day but not today. It had been a long time since he'd been fucked but he remembered how good it had felt and how many men would he find in the world now crazy enough to try this for him. 

"If you're sure," Tony said, leaning in to press a kiss to Bruce's collar bone. "We can do that." 

"I'm sure," Bruce promised. 

"Here." He looked up to find Natasha knelt on the mattress and it was a real sign of just how relaxed he was that he hadn't even heard her approach. She was holding a tube of lube which Tony took almost gleefully. 

"Thank you Natasha, light of my life!" 

"If you call me that again I'll kill you," she deadpanned and then she slowly began to move away. Bruce wasn't even aware of moving until his hand was around her wrist. 

"You can stay," he said, looking down at where his skin met hers. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want but..." 

"I'd be honoured," she said smoothly, moving silkily to sprawl on the bed next to Bruce. He leant over and kissed her as Tony continued to trail kisses down his body. She was softer than Tony and she smelt nice and tasted better. Not that Bruce was complaining, both of them seemed somehow above his league, yet somehow he was here...

"He's thinking again," Tony said, his voice a gentle rumble over Bruce's stomach. "Stop him thinking, Natasha." 

Natasha just rolled her eyes and carried on doing what she was doing, but Bruce took the advice a little more to heart, closing his eyes and losing himself in sensation again. He was a mess but he had friends here who wanted to try to help him despite the dangers involved and the least he could do was let them. 

Once he’d made the decision it was somehow easier to relax, to let himself sink backwards into the mattress. Natasha moved to lean over him, pressing her breasts against his chest and he reached out arm up lazily to curl around her back as Tony continued his journey downwards. It should have been intimidating, stifling, but it wasn’t. It was comfort and friendship and home. 

Tony avoided his cock again, going straight past it to run a finger gently between Bruce’s ass cheeks. He should have tensed up, he knew, but Natasha was so soft and distracting that he just didn’t. Not even when Tony pressed hot wet kisses to his hips and opened the tube. 

He’d have expected Tony to move things along then but he didn’t. He stayed down there, yes. Spread Bruce’s legs and lay between them but he seemed mostly content to run his hands up and down Bruce’s legs, massaging his thighs and Bruce relaxed obligingly for him letting his legs fall open. 

When Tony did finally use the tube, warming it on his fingers and sliding on into Bruce it didn’t feel like an intrusion at all. It felt welcome, overdue even. His pulse was up, of course, but right down to his core he felt calm. Warm, cared for, safe. There was no need for the other guy here. Just him and Tony and Nat. 

Tony took an obscene amount of time over opening him up and Bruce let him. He wasn’t in any rush after all. After a while Natasha stopped kissing him and settled with her head on his shoulder. They lay there together, watching Tony open him and stretch him. 

Occasionally Tony’s fingers would brush over the spot inside him that made stars dance behind his eyes but even that didn’t bring out any green. There was no danger here, after all. 

Tony eventually deemed him ready apparently and moved up to kiss him. Tony was obviously turned on, thick and hard and Bruce would have tensed up at the thought or what Tony was about to do with that thing but he was ready. So ready. He kissed back open mouthed and sloppy until Tony pulled away. 

“You sure,” Tony asked one last time, moving to line himself up. 

“Entirely,” Bruce promised as Natasha huffed a little laugh against his chest. 

“Just take him already, Stark, before we both die of old age.” 

Tony pulled a face at her and Bruce laughed but then Tony was right there, pressing up against Bruce, and he couldn’t laugh any more. He could only breath for a moment as Tony slid in, filling him and covering him and damn but this was what Bruce had wanted. If he didn’t come, and he was starting to think he just might, he’d been given this at least. This feeling of being complete. 

When Tony started to move he let his eyes close, let himself become lost in the feeling. The pressure of Tony inside him, the delicious brushes of Tony’s cock inside him. Everything was just...for a second it was almost too much but in a very different way from how the other guy was too much. A completely different way and Tony had been right, damnit, because before Bruce realised what was happening he was coming untouched. 

“Damn,” Tony said, sounding almost impossibly turned on. “That was something.” 

“Yeah,” Bruce mumbled. “You gonna finish?” 

“Hell yeah,” Tony growled and then he went back to fucking Bruce. Bruce lay there and let him, let himself feel safe and warm and well fucked for the first time in a long time and, well, let himself feel home. 

***

Thor might not have been in command of the unit he fought with here on Earth, but he still had a commander's eye for his soldiers, and a man's eye for his friends. And both sides of him could see that Steve, who was their commander and sometimes had trouble letting go of that fact even when he should have only been worrying about being a man, responsible only for himself, was struggling.

Stark built them a wondrous thing in this private space - it was a trick of his that Thor admired, that he could so perfectly craft a thing that it was more than its parts. The lounge space was just a room, in a building, and it was well-furnished, comfortable, had all that might be required, but it was just a room and yet, somehow it was not. That was Stark's great talent, Thor always thought. He was a loose cannon almost by his own design and definitely by his own admission, and to listen to him you'd think he cared nothing for anyone but himself, and on the battlefield he had to be their scout because he would not, or could not, work in harmony with anyone else - but he was all heart, and when others were beyond their limits, that is where you would find Tony Stark, still building with all his might. 

It was a strength they needed sometimes. It was a strength _Steve_ needed sometimes. Even commanders must sometimes lay down their burdens, but Steve did not like to do so if he could see that someone still had a need. In this space, though, there was always someone to care for anyone who required it. 

Steve was moving towards Doctor Banner, who always fought so well and bravely, and all the more bravely, Thor thought, for the fact that afterwards he was always like this, a mess of broken pieces that must be carefully put back together. Steve was reaching out to Bruce, but Tony was there already. Tony was there to take care of Bruce, and so Thor decided that he would take care of Steve. There was always someone to take care of anyone who needed it in this space - and sometimes it was Steve who needed it. Thor laid his hand on the Captain's shoulder as he passed, and pulled him to a halt. 'Captain,' he said softly. 'Will you lie with me?'

'I -' said Steve, gesturing in the direction he was moving. 'Bruce needs help,' he said, but he said it lamely, as if he had realised he was not the only one who was watching. 

'Bruce is well looked-after, I feel,' Thor said, sliding his hand down the beautifully wrought shape of Steve's arm until he could entwine their fingers. He started to move towards a different area of the room. 'But you,' he said, pushing Steve down to the mattress underfoot. 'You have not been, so far. I would remedy that, if you will let me.' 

Steve was beautiful underneath him, and Thor braced himself on hands and knees and looked, drank it in, the sculpted muscle and smooth, unscarred skin, Steve's lower lip bitten to redness and his eyes lidded and long-lashed as he tried to look away. Thor understood, somewhat, what it was like to be in Steve's place as a leader, as a fighter. But there was ever an undercurrent in Steve of control, of a worried fear of himself, that Thor had no concept of. He was born strong and grew into yet greater power. He knew his strength intimately, the way he knew the streets of Asgard and the corridors of the palace he grew up in. 

Steve walked the hallways of his strength like a caretaker, not like an owner. And Steve, somewhere in himself, was always afraid he would overwhelm someone. With Thor, he need not feel that fear. 

Thor leant down and bracketed Steve's face with his hands. They were of a height and similar in build, and Thor enjoyed that symmetry. (Natasha once told him that if only he would cut his hair they would be book-ends, a comment he had not initially understood until he had visited Steve's apartment and seen his shelves.) 'Will you?' Thor asked. 'Will you let me in, Steve?'

They have been here before. Thor knew what Steve desired after a day like today. And sure enough, Steve licked his lips and looked up with eyes blown black with only the barest hint of blue, and said, 'Please.'

That was all. Just 'please'. It wasn't in Steve Rogers to beg, and it wasn't in Thor Odinsson to ask that of him, and this was not the time for that anyway. This was a time to be together, to celebrate deeds well done, and that they had lived through them for one more day.

Thor grinned and kissed Steve's mouth, the shadow under his jaw, the cords of his neck, tasted him and enjoyed the way the man went soft underneath him, willing and trusting, power leashed and beautiful because of it. The world thought of Steve as a man of strength, a symbol of power, and that was too much weight for him to bear sometimes. Thor liked to show him that it was okay to want other things. 

Opening Steve was hard, always so hard to do. His body fought intrusion even as it welcomed it - he moaned roughly at every slight move of Thor's fingertips inside of him, working as slowly and as gently as may be, and it took patience, which was not Thor's strong suit, to get two fingers in him to the knuckles. Patience and lubrication, another of Stark's weapons in the arsenal of things he used to keep the Avengers provisioned - coffee, space, technology, clothing, transport, personal lubricant … they wanted for nothing. Thor slicked himself up 'til it runnelled down the heartline of his hand and eased into Steve until his throat locked and the noises he made were whimpers, and then he wet his own cock and spread Steve's legs. 

It was times like this that Thor wished Jane could be here as well. She would like this, he thought. This openness and sharing, they would be dear to her heart as they were dear to his. And the sight of Captain America laid bare beneath Thor, taking him to the root and arching up off the mattress to do so, well. Anyone would like that. Maybe one day, Thor thought as he pushed in hard, forced that tight muscle to give way to him. Maybe one day she could be here too, see this, be with them all this way. Until then, though, he had comfort to give to his friends and he knew that she would want him to look after them.

He pulled out, then bulled his way back in again, knew Steve could take it, would adjust if only Thor was not too shy about doing this. 'Thor, please,' Steve whispered, clawing with blunt nails at Thor's shoulders, hiking his own knees up higher around Thor's hips. 'Please, my friend.'

'Please?' Thor asked, almost cross-eyed with effort, heat and arousal. Steve was a furnace inside, silken and hot and right, not made for this but hungry for it all the same. 

But it wasn't Steve who answered him. 

'Harder,' said Clint hoarsely. He was bound, and beautiful with it (Thor always saw so much beauty in this room, it was overwhelming), and he nosed at Steve's cheek until they were aligned to kiss, breathlessly. 'He wants it harder. He wants you to fuck him into the mattress and out the other side.'

Steve's kisses turned hard for a moment and Clint surrendered to them with a wicked smile, as if he'd planned it that way. Thor shoved in and up harder, almost bending Steve in two. 

Steve took it. Steve took everything and begged for more with his pliant body and his surrender, because if he wished to change their coupling he most certainly could. But this was what he wanted and Thor was very very happy to give it to him. Taking Steve in this manner was an honour, one Thor was not always sure he deserved. 

'Oh, oh, oh,' Steve chanted against Clint's mouth. 'Oh, jeez, please, I, I need -'

'Tell him,' Clint urged Steve softly. 'Use your words, Steve. He'll give it to you. He'll give you anything - we all would. Just tell him.' He nuzzled at Steve's cheek in such a way that it made Thor think he would be stroking it if he could. 

_'Harder,'_ Steve choked, and Thor had no leverage for 'harder' from that angle but there were others. He yanked free of Steve's body and hauled him up and over, to all fours, and he would feel bad for this haste and lack of care but if he hesitated Steve's body would close him out again. As it was, when he slammed back in it was almost as if he hadn't prepared Steve at all, tight as ever. 

Steve's spine went liquid though, at the rough treatment, and his upper body puddled into the mattress, face turned towards Clint, who wriggled closer to kiss and kiss again. Thor planted a hand into the glorious dip between Steve's shoulderblades and thrust in, as hard as he was able, and whether it was the tightness, the velvet, liquid glory of Steve under him, or that sight, Clint bound and Steve surrendering, Thor didn't know, but he was suddenly close to climax. Very close. He pushed in again and shuddered. 

'Steve,' he said, stilling for a moment and trying hard not to lose his control. 'Steve, I'm -'

'Do it,' Clint answered for Steve again. 'Come in him. He's close too, I can tell.' The archer always saw much that others did not, that Thor certainly never did, and Thor was inclined to trust him in intimacy as much as he did on a battlefield. He fucked into Steve once more, and again, and again, feeling himself draw up tight, the quivering under his skin. 

'Please,' Steve whispered one more time, his eyelids cracking open a sliver, and Thor swore, filthy words in fifty languages he learnt off Loki half a lifetime ago, as he emptied himself into Steve's willing body. It felt like it took forever, an eternity, or as if time had slowed down, and Clint was kissing Steve again and Steve jerked under Thor, and his body clenched as tight as if he was being electrocuted. 

'He likes coming untouched,' Clint said to Thor as Thor gingerly pulled himself free. As if Thor didn't know this already. As if it were not obvious from the satisfied look on Steve’s face. 

Thor leant in and pressed one last kiss to Steve’s slack lips, content that Steve was yet too caught in his own orgasm to respond. He then turned and kissed Clint, enjoying the other man’s easy submission. Satisfied that his work was done, he stood and stretched. Steve watched him, glassy eyed and content. Yes, he had done well here. 

***

Phil Coulson stood in the room the Avengers used to change when they came in from missions feeling weirdly like an interloper. Not that he didn’t often feel that way in Avengers tower. The team had known about his survival for a while now, but the resentment about being lied to hadn’t really worn off for most of them. 

Clint was different, obviously. He was, in Phil’s opinion, the one with the most reason to be upset with Phil but he just seemed glad to have him back. It’s hadn’t been entirely painless coming back to Clint either. For some reason, in the months he’d let Clint believe he was dead it had never occurred to him that Clint might find someone else. Or a whole tower full of someone else’s. 

The first time Clint had explained how things worked in the tower Phil had, well, he’d panicked. What could he possibly offer Clint that couldn’t be supplied better by a billionaire, a god and Captain America? Not to mention Bruce and Natasha. There had been a little jealousy in there, too, if he was honest. He loved Clint, he did, but childhood fantasies were hard to shift and he’d have very much liked to be with Steve, even if only in a casual way. He knew it was only a dream, though. Clint still wanted him, for some reason, but the others didn’t. He wasn’t a part of this thing. 

The door to the lift opened and Phil let go of his maudlin thoughts, turning to greet Clint. Clint looked like a wet dream. He was naked with tousled hair and his cock hanging there thick between his legs. He had the kind of dreamy eyed look of someone who’d been thoroughly fucked and there were rope burns around his wrists. 

The sight was beautiful, though there was a hint of jealousy in there that Clint could trust someone else and, well, a hint of wistfulness that he hadn’t been there to watch whoever had fucked Clint like this do their work. 

“Hey,” Clint said, walking over to Phil’s side and sliding effortlessly into his arms. Phil drew him closer automatically, letting Clint tuck himself against his side and stroking the other man’s hair. Clint preened a little, leaning into the touch. He was always so wonderfully sensitive when he was like this. 

“Hey yourself,” Phil muttered, dropping a kiss into Clint’s hair. “You’re looking good. I’m sorry I interrupted. You want me to come back another time?” 

“No,” Clint said, tightening his hold just a little. “I want you here all the time.” 

Phil flushed at that. He knew Clint enjoyed having him around but it was nice to have it confirmed. He let his hand trail slowly over Clint’s back for a few seconds, just appreciating the warmth and closeness before he pulled back to look at Clint again. 

“I’m only here until the morning,” he said. “We have another mission but we need to rest and refuel and I wanted to see you.” 

“I’m glad you came,” Clint said, leaning in for a kiss. Phil was happy to give it to him, bringing one hand up to cup Clint’s face and tilt it into position as the other hand caressed the other man’s back possessively. Clint seemed content to let himself be kissed, staying soft and pliant as Phil bit on his bottom lip, opening his mouth to Phil’s tongue. Phil pulled back after a while to find Clint watching him with glassy eyes. He was so beautiful like this. 

“Phil,” Clint mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his face into Phil’s neck. “You want to come upstairs with me?” 

“To your room?” Phil asked, plotting out in his head what he was going to do with Clint when he got there. Maybe fuck his mouth, those lips would look good around Phil’s dick and Clint did love being used like that. Maybe spread him open and fuck him slowly, watch him fall apart. That would be so easy with him like this. 

“If you want,” Clint said, fisting a hand in Phil’s shirt. “But I meant up to the lounge level.” 

Phil paused. He hadn’t expected that invitation. In time, maybe, but not until they were all a lot more comfortable with him being back. 

“Are you sure?” Phil asked. “I mean, the others agree to this?” 

“We talked about it last week,” Clint said, pulling back to look Phil in the eye. “I’m not going to say it was an easy decision. Steve’s still a little...reluctant, so you might want to make sure you don’t go up to him unless he comes to you but...we agreed that if you turned up when we were all up there again you could come with us.” 

“I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable,” Phil said, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at the idea. 

“We can go to my room if you want,” Clint said with a shrug. “Or we can go up there and I’ll just stay with you and we won’t talk to anyone else. I’d just...I’d prefer to be around my team too right now but you’re more important.” 

Clint wanted to go up there, together with him, but he’d give that up if Phil wanted him too. That felt good to know. Important. It was a good thing he didn’t want Clint to give up his team. 

“I’ll come up to the lounge floor,” he said. “Though if anyone doesn’t want me there after all I’ll leave.” 

“That’s fair,” Clint agreed, pulling back from Phil’s embrace entirely. Phil made to follow but before he could Clint was back in his space gently peeling him out of his clothes. First the tie, then the jacket and the shirt. He did it carefully, folding the clothes as he took them away like he knew Phil prefered. Phil let him, relaxing into the familiar routine of Clint stripping him. 

Clint stopped when he got to the underwear, leaning in to press his face against Phil’s cock through the fabric of his y-fronts. Phil reached down and held him in place, rubbing against him as Clint gasped. He was very tempted to just fuck Clint where he was but he’d made a promise to him. 

“Come on,” he said, releasing Clint’s head. “Off with those and let’s go up.” 

“You sure,” Clint said, leaning back to meet Phil’s eyes. “You can keep them on if you want. Nobody’s going to judge. 

“No,” Phil said, sliding his own hands into the waistband of his underwear and pulling it free. Clint reached up quickly to take over the task, easing them down. He could maybe preserve a little dignity by wearing them up to the top floor but it would also be basically dishonest. He was here for sex, what was the point in hiding that? 

“I love your cock, you know,” Clint said, leaning in to kiss the head. Phil was half hard already and became more so under Clint’s brief attention. 

“I know,” he said, hoping it was reassuring. “Come on, let’s go up.” 

Clint nodded and climbed to his feet, taking Phil’s hand and leading him to the elevator. The ride up wasn’t long enough for a decent kiss but Phil distracted himself from his nerves by palming Clint’s ass. He knew there were a lot of ways this could go wrong but he didn’t have time to focus on them now. 

He’d never been into the lounge floor before but it was more or less as he’d imagined it from how the others had described it. Steve wasn’t in the main room at the moment, thankfully, nor were Tony, Bruce or Thor. Just Natasha, lying out on her back on the cushions. She looked up when the elevator door opened and, with a grin, crawled across the bed to meet them. 

“I see you accepted the invite,” she said, confirming at least that they had talked about this together and Clint hadn’t been lying to him. Not that he thought Clint would lie but more intelligence was always better than less. 

“Yes,” he said, reaching over to lay a hand on her hip. She was wearing some kind of ladies nightwear that felt like silk under his hand. As a general rule he wasn’t attracted to women but he’d made an exception for Natasha before, so he leant in to kiss her now. 

It had been years since he’d touched her like this - only once after a mission gone bad. She’d been tired and needy then but now she was slow and sensual, pressing light kisses all over his lips before allowing him to draw her forward and kiss her properly, deeply. It had been an age since he was intimate with a woman and he let himself run his hands over her body, enjoying the way she was different. He cupped the softness of her breasts and she gasped into his mouth and then he ran his hands down over her stomach until they were both interrupted by a cough. 

Clint was stood there with a loop of rope dangling from his hands, looking more than a little flushed. Phil reached over and took the rope from him. 

“You know,” he said, running his fingers over the rope. “If you’re going to have them tie you up here you should bring some cuffs. They’re better for long term.” 

“Want me to go fetch some?” Clint asked, glancing reluctantly over at the elevator. Phil really should send him to bring them but, well, maybe next time. Instead he gestured Clint closer and Clint came obligingly, holding his hands out in front to be bound. Phil lifted the rope and wrapped it around Clint’s wrists - tight enough to stop him getting free but not so much as to cut off circulation, and then looped the rope around itself between his wrists to cinch it. Which he was working Natasha slid over and came to stand behind Clint, running her hands over his chest. 

“Thank you,” Clint said when the knots were done. He gave a few experimental tugs to test them but Phil was glad to see the held firm. He knew he was good at this but it was still nice to see the proof of it. 

“So,” Natasha said, reaching down to cup Clint’s dick. “Since everyone else is busy right now I was thinking we should use Clint.” 

“Would you like that, Clint?” Phil asked, reaching to run his hands up and down Clint’s bound arms. The other man was already getting that look he got when something in the bedroom was really working for him so he had an idea what the answer would be. Clint nodded enthusiastically and Phil grinned. It was a very good idea and he was more than ready to fuck Clint by now. 

Natasha stepped away for a second and Phil took the chance to back Clint up to the bed. Normally a bed wouldn’t be a good height to do this but apparently Stark had thought of everything when he built this place and when Phil tipped Clint back across the mattress their hips lined up just nicely for Phil to fuck him. He spread Clint’s legs and ran his finger over Clint’s hole. Clint whimpered a little, sensitive. He’d probably already been fucked today. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” Phil asked, gently rubbing Clint’s hole again. Clint squirmed but nodded. 

“Please, Phil. More than anything.” 

“You tell me if it hurts,” he said, looking around just as Natasha came back to them across the mattress with lube. He grabbed it from her quickly, putting the lube on his finger and teasing Clint open. Normally he’d take longer with the foreplay than this but it had been a long time since they were together and he didn’t want to wait longer that he had to. 

Clint kept whimpering and twisting but didn’t protest as Phil opened him up. He took his time, ignoring his own arousal for now and watching Clint. He was beautiful like this, always. If Phil could just keep him like this all the time he would. He’d contemplated a few times how he’d go about that but really there was no way to do it, which was a real shame. He’d give a lot to be able to come in from work to Clint tied and and desperate and waiting for him. 

As he prepared Clint Natasha was touching herself and watching them. She’d always had a thing for watching and directing, he knew. She didn’t try to direct him for which he was thankful as he didn’t take it too well, but she did watch carefully, touching herself as he touched Clint. 

Finally he pulled his fingers free. He met Natasha’s eye and then waited as she positioned herself over Clint’s face. Clint had apparently been paying attention as he was ready when she placed herself over him so he could eat her out and, as he started, Phil slid his way in. 

They’d done this a lot of times so the way Clint moved against him was familiar. Natasha reaching over to brace herself on his shoulder was less familiar but still good and he reached over to pull her in for a kiss as he held Clint down with one hand and fucked into him. 

Clint obviously wasn’t going to last long. He cock, still untouched, was hard and leaking. He reached his bound hands out to grab at Phil and Phil let him, let Clint cling to his arm as he fucked into him. It had been too long since he’d done this and it felt so good, like coming home. 

He was getting closer now, it was hard to focus with Clint under him anyway but he could feel the edges of his orgasm approaching when someone else walked into the room. He started, then forced himself to relax. This was normal. It was what they did here. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t Steve. Phil wasn’t sure he wanted his first interaction up here with Steve to be while he was balls deep in Clint and on the edge of an orgasm. Tony got a glint in his eye when he saw them and headed over just in time for Natasha to orgasm, her body curling in on itself. She rolled away as Tony got there, not bothering with a hello but wrapping his hands around Phil’s hips like he wanted to help. 

Phil ignored Tony for now, taking Clint’s thighs and pushing them further forward so he could fuck deeper. Clint gasped, throwing his arms above his head and Natasha moved to take his hand, curling around him. 

“Good to see you up here, Agent,” Tony purred into Phil’s ear. 

“Good to be here,” Phil managed to reply, though it took some effort. Tony slid round then, taking Phil’s chin and turning his head so they could kiss. It was new, and strange, and oddly distracting. He hadn’t kissed a man with facial hair in some time either, he’d forgotten how prickly it could be. 

“Might catch up with you later,” Tony said, pulling away. He stopped for a second then reached down and squeezed Clint’s dick. Clint grasped at Natasha’s hands, obviously desperately trying not to come. Phil decided to have pity and, as Tony walked away, reached down himself and took Clint in hand. A few tugs were enough to have Clint coming, clenching around him and he’d always loved being in Clint when the other man orgasmed. It didn’t take much, with that kind of stimulus, for him to orgasm himself, holding a now limp Clint down as he came. 

Once he could think again he drew back and climbed onto the bed, nudging Clint further up and wrapping the other man in his arms. 

Clint was always pliant and just a little bit needy after an orgasm, which was no bad thing. He burrowed into Phil’s embrace and Phil held him close. After a while Natasha came back and curled along Clint’s back. They shared a satisfied smile over Clint’s head. There was definitely something to be said for this sharing thing. 

***

Natasha stepped out of the shower, content and at ease in her own skin in a way she hadn’t felt for some time. She supposed this was the magic of this place, it let them drop their shields for a little while, both figuratively and metaphorically, and be. She stretched, feeling her muscles work under her skin and then relaxed, letting her shoulders fall. It had been a good day. She’d needed this. 

From the main room she could hear that it wasn’t over yet but she took a few minutes to towel dry her hair before stepping back out. They had reached the point in the day when, too tired or satiated to move, they all seemed to have made their way to the bed at the same time but there was still an energy in the air that said they weren’t ready to dissolve into post-orgasmic cuddles just yet. 

She moved to sit on the corner of the bed and watch them. Clint hadn’t moved from where she’d left him, still curled into Phil’s chest with Phil’s arm thrown protectively over him. Steve had stationed himself at the opposite corner of the head of the bed, as far as he could get from Phil without seeming impolite. That might be a problem heading forward, she’d keep an eye on them. She was sure she wouldn’t be the only one. Tony had sprawled himself across the middle of the bed with his head on Steve’s lap and, well, his toes didn’t quite reach Clint but that he’d made the effort was commendable. He was chattering away about nothing really, engaging Phil and Steve every so often. 

Thor was stood at the side of the bed by Steve running through some stretches. It was an impressive display and she took a second to appreciate it. Not many women could say they’d literally had a god in their bed but she felt in that moment that it was something all women should be allowed to experience because he was certainly good to look at. 

Bruce was sat at the foot of the bed with her, just in range if she reached out to touch him. He had his legs folded under and was watching them all through half-lidded eyes. There was an easiness about him that she hadn’t really seen before and it was good to see. 

It was all good to see. 

She looked over to Thor again and met his eye. He smiled at her, satisfied and maybe a little proud of what he’d done here today. He kept her eye as he walked over, laying a hand on Steve’s back. Steve responded to the touch by closing his eyes a little, letting his head fall back a little. Lovely. 

She stood up, making her way around the bed and taking Thor’s hand where it lay on Steve’s back. Thor let her move him as she slid his hand down to cup Steve’s ass and he squeezed obligingly, making enough sound that Tony noticed over the monologue he’d been maintaining and glanced over. He grinned like a maniac when he saw what they’d initiated. 

“Having some fun there?” he asked with a nonchalance that was an obvious act and immediately betrayed by the way he moved to his knees and kissed Thor. She smiled, lifting the hand that wasn’t directing Thor to run down his back. Tony was always so eager, strangely willing to give away anything he had for the tiniest bit of kindness. Not something she’d expect in a man of his background but charming all the same. 

Steve was apparently eager to join in, sliding a hand up to cup Tony’s ass like Thor was touching his. Good, they got the idea. That left the rest of the idiots for her to take care of. 

She slid away, stopping by Bruce to press a soft kiss on his cheek and then padding around the bed to where Clint and Phil were still curled up in each other, isolated in their own little world. That was fine if that was what they wanted but she suspected that they wanted more. As she approached them she saw Phil’s eyes were dark with lust and considered her suspicions confirmed. 

“Hey,” she said, sliding up on the bed next to him. He stirred, sitting up a little though Clint made a small protesting noise. “You should go over there. You’re missing the fun.” 

“There’s fun?” Clint asked, blinking at her fuzzily. He looked over his shoulder and then he face lit up when he realised what was happening. So eager to please and to join in. He sat up, reaching out with his bound hands to take one of Phil’s hands. “You wanna come join in?” 

“Not sure I’d be welcomed,” Phil said, though that was very obviously not a no. Natasha knew Phil well enough to know that if he didn’t want to join in he would have told them so. 

“You will,” Clint insisted, glancing over at them again. Steve had moved, pushing himself up to kiss Tony’s neck and Tony and Thor were still very deeply involve in the process of kissing each other. “We talked about it. You’re welcome.” Clint was still angling his body towards Phil in a way that said he’d stay if he had to but…

“Why don’t you go over and kiss Tony’s back,” Natasha suggested, reaching out to run her finger down Phil’s back. “You know he’s receptive, he kissed you earlier.” 

“Giving me orders now, Natasha?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, leaning in a little closer. He didn’t actually mind or he’d have pushed her away. “Don’t tell me you don’t see the appeal of giving Tony Stark a good fucking, though. I know you do. He’d probably let you if you asked nicely.” 

“Please,” Clint said, his voice low and breathy and apparently that was kryptonite to Phil as he leant down and kissed Clint and then gently guided Clint to his knees and over to the others. He took Natasha's suggestion and leant in, pressing against Tony’s back and kissing the other man’s neck as Clint leant against Steve, quickly distracting him with kisses. They fell back together onto the bed, Clint lying on top of Steve as they kissed and Phil’s hand still possessively on Clint’s thigh. She watched as Thor disengaged from kissing Tony and gently pushed Tony aside to kiss Phil instead, drawing him into the middle of them. He was going to be fine. 

That left Bruce, but before she could get to him Tony beat her to it, sliding out from between Thor and Phil and grinning. He didn’t even have to move far, Bruce slid over to meet him and they kissed passionately in the middle of the bed. 

Good. It was all going well. 

She stood and walked back around the bed to Thor. He broke his kiss with Phil as she ran her hands over his abs. He leant to kiss her quickly and softly, freeing an arms to curl around her waist and pull her in. For a few seconds she considered pulling away, watching this unfold from a distance, but maybe this was better. None of them would press her to do something she wasn’t comfortable with, after all. Why not be closer? 

Besides, she could direct better from the middle. They never seemed to know what to do when they were all together like this, it was a good thing they had her to organise them. 

Tony was slowly leading Bruce back to the group so she helped by taking Phil’s free hand and settling it on Tony’s hip. This seemed to work and Tony shifted backwards more quickly, drawing Bruce with him. Once they were in range Tony abandoned Bruce’s lips, spinning around and almost pouncing on Phil, pinning him to the bed and kissing him possessively though it didn’t take Phil long to flip them, reversing their positions with Tony sprawled out on the mattres. She felt Thor pull away behind her so leant forward to guide Bruce into a long, deep kiss. He reached up to cup her breasts as they kissed, warm and gentle and sending tiny tingles of pleasure through her. 

When she pulled back Tony and Phil had moved away a little, rolling each other in the sheets in a fight for dominance, so they were more room for her to climb up onto the bed and take in the sight before her. She leant back against Bruce’s shoulder and watched Steve, who was still sprawled out on the covers. He had his arm thrown over his eyes as though seeing what was happening would be too much and was making needy little sounds that went straight to her clit. Clint had worked his way down Steve’s body and was sucking the other man’s cock with a passion. He had a definite talent for it, bobbing and sucking and making possitively filthy sounds of his own. 

Thor was laid back alongside Steve sucking bruises onto the skin of Steve’s neck. It wasn’t like he’d be able to leave any lasting mark there but he was proving as enthusiastic as usual when it came to trying. 

Bruce’s hand landed on her stomach, a request for permission and she leant back into him, granting it. As he slid his fingers lower, gently teasing at her, she looked over to see that Phil had won whatever fight he’d been having with Tony and Tony couldn't look happier. He was sprawled out, hips canted up as Phil opened him up quickly, mumbling filthy things she could only just hear as he spread Tony out. Tony just grinned smugly like he’d been planning on this all along and, hell, maybe he had. 

She was so caught up in the expression on Tony’s face and the feel of Bruce’s fingers stroking her that she almost didn’t see Steve coming. It seemed to hit him quickly, only just giving him time to gasp a warning before he came, his body jerking and his eyes fluttering. She gasped, rubbing himself against Bruce’s fingers as she watched him. 

Thor drew back when Steve was done, a satisfied look on his face, and Tony didn’t waste any time in leaning over and taking Thor’s cock into his mouth. Thor hummed in pleasure, reaching down and threading his fingers into Tony’s hair, just that edge of rough as he liked it. Phil apparently decided he was done with waiting and thrust forward into Tony who gasped, making Thor gasp too, a beautiful chain reaction. 

She watched them, Thor and Phil exchanging looks over Tony who was lost between them, given over entirely to the feeling of being fucked so completely. It didn’t take long for him to come, Thor’s cock sliding out of his mouth as he gasped and pushed back into Phil and Natasha could feel her own orgasm building, the tightness in her limbs and the shortness in her breath that told her it was near. 

She came a second after Phil did, watching the expression on Tony’s face as Phil came in him. Her orgasm was quick and intense, leaving her doubled over and she let Bruce roll her until she came to lie next to Tony on the covers, both of them sprawled over Steve’s legs. 

She watched, boneless, as Thor climbed over them all to Clint who was hard and flushed and patiently waiting his turn. She turned her head to watche as Thor rolled Clint onto his back and took both of their cocks in his hand, pumping them both, drawing little gasps of need out of Clint. It was a pretty show but one that was never going to last long with Clint trapped below Thor’s chest like that. It wasn’t long before Clint was seeking out Phil’s eye and when Phil moved to kiss him, like permission, Clint came, shooting all over his own chest, and Thor followed him soon after. 

That only left Bruce. She looked over and he was clearly hard but when she made a gesture he just shook his head. Content to watch for now. She understood that, at least. She watched as he crawled around to plaster himself on Steve’s side and join them in their post-orgasmic-bliss. 

Everything was perfect. 

***

Bruce hummed as he cooked. He felt good. Loose and relaxed and wanted in a way he hadn't felt in years. It wasn't all down to the sex, of course, though that helped. No, most of it was just the way he fit here. Being in a team. Being needed. It was nice. 

Hearing them now out in the communal area was nice. They were all exhausted by now but in a good way. The kind of exhausted that left them all sprawled bonelessly on the bed chatting. It was a nice background noise to chopping vegetables. 

He heard footsteps and glanced up to find Tony in the door. He was grinning like he’d won the lottery or something and still entirely naked. Bruce had dressed again since he was cooking. Cooking in the nude tended not to end well for anyone. Still he felt overdressed as Tony slid up behind him, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s middle and pulling him back for a hug. 

“So,” Tony said, putting his chin on Bruce’s shoulder. “I know you’ve been away from society for a while but there’s this thing called takeaway…” 

“I like cooking,” Bruce said, cutting him of. “So, no, we’re not having this conversation. I’m doing what I’d like to do.” 

“Touchy,” Tony grumbled, pulling back to press a kiss to the back of his neck. “I’m just worried that you’re hiding yourself away again. We do want you.” 

“You’ve proved that,” Bruce said, and it came out a little quieter and a little more vulnerable than he’d intended. They had, though. He wasn’t going to say he felt completely at ease now but Tony had adequately proven that he was worth something. The others had all shown him that they agreed. He was genuinely not hiding, for once. Just cooking. 

He put the knife down and turned in Tony’s arms, draping his own arms over Tony’s shoulders and leaning in for a deep, long kiss. Tony let him lead, running soft reassuring circles on Bruce’s back and it was wonderful. It was safety and family and coming him and he couldn’t get enough of this. 

“Just tonight,” Tony mumbled against his lips as they pulled back. “Just for tonight, come sit with us. You can feed us tomorrow but I’ll feel better if everyone’s where I can see them. 

And that was just playing dirty because it wasn’t about him now, it was about Tony and helping Tony to enjoy this time. Tony who, for all his money and privilege, was just as messed up as the rest of them. He didn’t want to hurt Tony. He wanted to make this good for all of them and he knew there were already enough caregivers in this group but, damnit, just one little thing. 

He found himself nodding and could feel Tony’s answering grin on his lips. He let Tony lead the kiss this time and didn’t resist when Tony slid a hand under his shirt, breaking apart long enough to pull it up and off and then coming back for Bruce’s trousers. It was still a little uncomfortable to be naked, a little too vulnerable, but not as bad as it had been before. 

“Come on,” Tony said, taking his hand and guiding him to the door. Bruce insisted on stopping and asking Jarvis to send for takeout but then he let Tony lead him through to the main room. 

By this point nobody was having sex any more and the bed had become one giant, comfortable couch. Thor was relaxed back against the headboard with Steve lying half in his lap and Natasha tucked under his arm. Phil was on Natasha’s other side, looking a little unsure of himself still and it was nice to know he wasn’t alone in feeling that. Clint was curled against Phil’s side like a cat, untied now but looking deeply content all the same. He let Tony lead him to Steve’s feet, watched as Tony lifted Steve’s feet into his lap and then gestured Bruce to come closer and, well, why not? Why not curl up with Tony, let him see what good he’d done? 

Steve smiled at him lazily and Thor didn’t break in his retelling of whatever epic deed he’d decided to share with them but he did direct some of his monologue in Bruce’s direction. Natasha was lazily shuffling a deck of cards which meant she was probably gearing up to beat them all at some game or other and Tony had his hands buried on Bruce’s hair. It was the closest to home that Bruce had been in a long time so he just let himself relax and enjoy it. 

***

Steve stretched lazily. His hands, his feet, all found someone else as he did so - hemmed in by his team mates on this unholy bed/couch thing that Tony had built them. He was warm and comfortable, still feeling the bright flare of the orgasms he'd had under his skin, and he had Tony up along one side of him, clearly half-asleep but talking over something with Bruce, slurring the word 'statistically' and poking Bruce in the hip when the other man laughed. Natasha had her head in Steve's lap, in an uncharacteristic display of … of something at least approaching trust, and Clint was rubbing her feet. Phil Coulson was on Clint's other side. Steve still wasn't sure about how how he felt about the man. He'd barely known him, and then he'd been so angry, so grieved for him when he'd thought Phil was dead, and now …

… but the lie had never been Phil's, so he didn't deserve to feel Steve's anger over that, and even if Steve didn't know him that well he could see how Phil was with the rest of the team, and _that_ Steve could appreciate - the deft way he handled Tony's melodramatics, for a start. The respect he showed Natasha without showing any fear. His camaraderie with Thor, the dignity he showed to Bruce. And then this - him with Clint like this, understanding this aspect of the man, when Steve had found it hard to deal with at first and still had to admit to the occasional confusion over. Phil … Phil maybe wasn't a battle commander but these were still his people in some way similar to how they were Steve's, he cared for them all, knew them all, and Steve was not going to be the one to keep him out of this thing they shared. 

It was a lazy feeling in the room, after everything, and while Steve was enjoying the afterglow and the closeness, he could already feel the energy coming back to him, like his batteries were recharging. Not quite restlessness, but something like an urge to move for moving's sake. He started to think vaguely of the gym, seeing Natasha putting her arms over her head to crack her shoulders, and wondering if she'd spar with him later. Bruce was looking better and brighter-eyed than Steve had seen him in a long time, too. 

There was a quiet noise from the wall panel, indicating that someone had an incoming message. Tony groaned theatrically but got up and padded over to it.

'So,' he said after a moment. 'Apparently some kind of giant laser-shooting robot is tearing up Boston and they need us to do something about it. Who's interested?'

'Well, I guess we'd better suit up.' Clint said, sitting up with a relaxed roll of his shoulders and a grin on his face and Steve found that he couldn’t help but smile back.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art and Music Inspired by Even Superheroes Deserve Some Downtime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591105) by [sullacat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat)




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